In Her Majesty's Service
by littlegreenfish
Summary: Killian Jones has always fancied as a man who enjoys powerful women, but before Regina Mills he never realized exactly what that meant. After being reprimanded by Regina leaves him surprisingly excited, they eventually enter a mutually beneficial arrangement. Life as the queen's submissive is new for Killian, but Regina is more than happy to ease him into things. D!Regina S!Killian
1. The Contract

_Note: _Hello, everyone! I'm very excited about this fic, but as I have never been in a d/s relationship, am wary about misrepresenting the dynamic-although I do recognize that this fic is mostly fantasy, hence how they were able to get into this relationship so quickly. For anyone who is wondering, this fic is EXTREMELY consent-heavy. There is no dubcon or noncon. If Regina seems to at any point ignore Killian's reluctance, it's because he is still acting within their pre-agreed guidelines for play. They will have safeword, etc. Everything that Regina and Killian do will be in accordance with their personal limits. If you think that I am writing something incorrectly, or that I've written something problematic, please let me know. There are no trigger warnings for this chapter. I referenced a pre-made d/s contract for Regina/Killian's agreement. It can be found by googling "BDSM Contract".

Chapter Management

_I, Killian Jones, willingly by my own hand, request of Regina Mills that she accept my submission to her and take me into her care and guidance. The satisfaction of her every want, desire, and whim is even with my aspiration to please her. I offer her the use of my time, talents, and abilities._

_I ask with nothing but humility, that as my unyielding queen, she accept the keeping of my body for the fulfillment of our mutual needs. To achieve this, she may have unfettered use of my body at any time, in any place, in front of anyone; to keep or give away as she will determine._

_I request of Regina, as my Queen and my keeper, that she use the power I am giving her to guide us both in mutual growth and understanding as our relationship (as explained in this document) progresses._

_In return, I agree:_

_To obey her commands to the best of my ability._

_To overcome feelings of guilt or shame, and all inhibitions those interfere with my capability to serve her._

_To reveal my thoughts, feelings, and desires without hesitation or embarrassment when given permission._

_To inform her of my wants and perceived needs, recognizing that she is the sole judge of whether or how these shall be satisfied._

_To work with her to become a happy and self-fulfilled individual._

_To work against negative aspects of my ego and my insecurities that would interfere with advancement of these aims._

_My surrender is done with the knowledge that neither of us will come to any real harm, emotionally or physically, as a result of it._

_Should either of us experience a change of heart, or for any other reason wish to cancel this agreement, either may do so by verbal notification to the other, in keeping with the consensual nature of the relationship._

_We both understand that cancellation is an end of the control stated and implied within this agreement, and we are under no obligation to continue a relationship as friends or lovers._

_Specific conditions, including safe-words, limits, and regular punishments will be decided on a bi-weekly basis using a separate document based on mutual agreement, personal comfort, and our individual schedules._

_We both promise to break each other's trust and expose the nature of our agreement unless permission has been given. We also promise not to let the nature of our agreement affect our lives outside of it, so that we may continue to live our lives as we wish when not at play._

_This contract has a life of one year. At its expiration a new contract may be created and signed._

_I offer my consent as submission to Regina Mills under the terms stated above._

_**Killian Jones**_

_7/9/14_

_I offer my acceptance of Killian Jones' submission under the terms stated above._

_**Regina Mills**_

_7/9/14_

"Will this do, _Your Majesty_?" His voice comes out in a snarl. His face is red. This is the sixth time that she's had him re-write the damn thing. It was humiliating enough to write it once. Of course, that's part of the point.

He can't pretend that writing the contract didn't make him hard.

"I suppose." Regina sighs, looking down her nose at the paper and moving her hand across the bottom of the page with a flourish. "I'm sure you did your best, dear." She looks up at him and her eyes are dangerous. "Now sign it."

For a moment he almost hesitates, because this is going to change more than just the nature of their relationship: it's going to change the course of his life for the next year. Unless one of them decides to dissolve the contract. Neither of them are the type to back down, but it could happen.

With a final scowl, he takes the offered pen and scrawls his name.

"Wonderful." She takes the contract, tucks it into a manila folder, and slips it into her desk. There's nothing magical about the contract, but that doesn't mean it's not binding. "Congratulations, Mr. Jones, your we begin today."

On the ride home, he slouches against the window and thinks about how this started. It had been about a month ago. After his last advance towards Ms. Swan, which had _apparently_ been especially misogynistic, Regina had been furious to the point of hitting him.

It hadn't been enough to do any real damage, but it had fucking _hurt_.

He'd been wearing nothing but cotton pajama pants at the time (she'd stormed onto his ship, where he lived) and his arousal had been impossible to hide. Something about the absolute _disdain_ she'd had for him in that moment, and the things that she was saying, ("You mean _nothing_, do you understand me? Nothing.") had amounted to the the hottest moment of his life.

Ten minutes later, he was working himself to an embarrassingly quick orgasm while she told him just how little he meant to her. She hadn't undressed, but it had evidently been a satisfying enough experience of the mayor that she'd come back the next day.

Their new relationship—whatever it was—had progressed surprisingly quickly. Killian wasn't sure how Regina knew exactly what he wanted without ever asking him (he wouldn't have been able to tell her, out loud anyway) but in less than a month Killian was scrubbing down her kitchen floor while she did paperwork and occasionally made a comment about how he was out of shape.

He'd always known that he liked to have a woman in charge, but until Regina he hadn't developed a real understanding of how deeply that part of him ran. She hadn't even touched him, yet even the right look from the queen was enough for an orgasm more satisfying than being inside any of the bar wenches he'd met on his travels.

She'd been the one to suggest a contract. At the time, she'd been getting out of the shower while he waited, patiently and clothed, with her towel and robe.

"I'm quite enjoying this arrangement." She mentioned, holding out her arms and letting him to dress her. He wasn't allowed to look, and kept his gaze trained on the shower curtain, his jaw set. "Would you like to make it official?"

"Excuse me?" He replied, cocking an eyebrow and stealing a glance at her face.

"No peeking." Regina said sharply, giving his ass a pinch as she tied her robe. "As I was saying—in this world, what you're doing for me is not uncommon." She smirked. "And in our world, this is nothing short of what a queen deserves."

Pausing, she turned and looked him up and down.

"You're currently unemployed, are you not?"

"I get by." He wasn't making money. That was true. Piracy wasn't all that possible in Storybrooke.

"Well, I have plenty." She reached out and let her knuckles trail down his face. "And I'd be more than happy to provide for you, if you enter into my service."

"I'm no one's servant." He said immediately and defensively, jerking his head away from her touch. What he'd been doing for Regina over the past few weeks was equally the most humiliating and satisfying experience of his life. But that didn't make him her servant.

"Oh no, dear. That's not what I'm asking of you." She laughed and placed her hands on his chest. "I would provide for you as a part of my household. You would be under my protection, in a sense. That's more than I would give to any handmaiden—and you'd have a place to stay that wasn't that god-awful boat of yours."

He tensed. No one could talk shit about his ship.

"I could buy you so many nice things," She continued. "…and you've looked so worn down lately." He tried to object, but she put a finger to his lips to silence him. "Wouldn't a change of pace be nice?"

Her face was incredibly close, but he knew better than to try and kiss her.

"Why not take a break from being a pirate, and let me spoil you like a prince? After all, I'm not asking for anything in return that you're opposed to giving. But would it be the worst thing—to be _mine_ for awhile?"

She gave his crotch a hearty squeeze, and he could no longer keep his arousal a secret.

"_Fuck…_" He breathed out, turning his face away because he simply couldn't look at her any longer without embarrassing himself all over his jeans.

They'd retired to the living room after that, and Regina had clearly and concisely explained what would happen if he agreed to her proposal. She had been completely professional, but it had still been enough to make him squirm in his seat.

In the days that followed, they had several conversations about what this would mean for the both of them. She wasn't willing to start negotiations until he was educated properly on the kind of deal that she wanted to make, and how his life would change if he agreed to her offer.

Killian couldn't believe what he was going to agree to—what he _wanted_ to agree to. His new urges to please Regina were unlike anything he'd ever experienced. They went beyond his sexuality. Receiving praise, and punishment, from her was emotionally satisfying to a point that he hadn't known existed within him.

Now, just over a month after the encounter than began their new relationship, the contract is signed and they're on the way home. Regina had been very clear in saying that as long as he was in her service, he could call her house his home, even if he would only be staying there when Henry wasn't living with her.

"We'll go over our first bi-weekly schedule tomorrow. We've done enough paperwork for today, wouldn't you agree, dear?" She asks as they pull into the drive.

"So what are we going to do tonight?" He asks.

"I have a list of chores for you." She explains, unlocking the door and letting him in. "And if you behave, we will go out to dinner to celebrate the beginning of what, I can only hope, will be a very satisfying year."


	2. A Lesson in Laundry

The door closes behind them with a click, and he realizes that this is real. Killian Jones no longer belongs to the sea. He belongs to Regina Mills. The thought sends a shiver down his spine.

He knows that their contract isn't _legally_ binding, and that he can bail at any time, but he plans to live by it all the same.

"What first?" He asks, all smirks and cocked eyebrows and confidence that he's sure the mayor isn't going to let last.

"You will fold my laundry, and I will then inspect it before you put it away. This will be one of your weekly duties. As it's your first time handling my clothes, I have only put out what I think you can manage." She pauses, and looks him up and down. He isn't wearing his signature coat—it's the middle of summer, and it made him stand out a little too much, anyway.

Instead he's in a ratty v-neck that David left on his ship months ago after a fishing trip, and one of the two pairs of jeans he's picked up during his time in Maine. They're worn out, but clean.

"Your clothes are disgusting. Take them off." She leans back slightly against the bannister, her black pencil skirt taught against her hips and thighs and her white blouse unbuttoned just enough to let him peak at her bra.

She watches him as if he's something as mundane as the morning news. He easily strips down, used to only using one hand after years with his hook. Speaking of his signature piece, he's not wearing it now. It's more of a bother than anything when he's with Regina.

Soon he's naked in front of her, and feeling surprisingly much more vulnerable to be bare in front of her now that they're under contract.

"Well? What are you waiting for? My laundry basket is upstairs on my bed. I will be up to inspect your work when you are finished."

He can feel her eyes on him as he goes up the stairs. In her bedroom, he finds her laundry basket, and grits his teeth. Inside is what must be every piece of lingerie that the mayor owns.

In his long life, he's never folded lady's underwear before. In the navy he'd made sure that his uniform was washed, pressed, and neatly folded—but that had been years ago, and it hadn't been nearly as lacy as the scraps of fabric in front of him.

Part of him is tempted to just toss the clothes into her drawers—after all, how much can you really fold a pair of panties?—but he knows better, and so he does his best. The bras he simply folds over and sets with the others.

Save for one or two nude bras, they're mostly dark colors. A few are lacy, but most are simple and elegant. One of them doesn't appear to be the same size as the rest. It looks too small. He swallows hard, and thinks about what she'd look like in it, her breasts begging to spring free.

When he looks down at his cock, he feels unexpected shame at his hardness.

He's been finished with her clothes for ten minutes when she walks in.

"Let's see how you've done." She walks over to her dresser and pulls open the drawer where he's placed her laundry, making a low humming noise as she slowly examines his work. "Almost everything seems to be in order?"

"Almost?" He asks, crossing his arms and leaning back against the closet door.

"Everything is satisfactory, except for these." She plucks a single bra and pair of underwear from the drawer. It's the small one, he observes, and can't help but imagine Regina in it. "Because it's your first day under my care, the consequences of your disobedience will be at a minimum."

He simply raises an eyebrow, surprised that she would consider such small mistakes an offense. Honestly, he doubts that they were even folded incorrectly. She's probably just teasing him.

"So what am I to do to redeem myself?" He asks.

A smirk that could kill thousands slowly spread onto her face.

"Isn't it obvious?"

He cocked an eyebrow, and she outright _smiled_.

"You're going to wear them to dinner. As you didn't completely fail your task, we're still going out."

"Excuse me?" He sputters, eyes wide. "I am _not_—"

"Did you not promise to obey my commands?" She asks.

"_Yes_, but—"

"Then put them on."

"I—"

"Put them on." She repeats, eyes narrowed. "**Now**. And apologize for questioning me."

"I…" He falters, and the strange sense of guilt is back. "I'm sorry." She nods approvingly, and gestures for him to approach, recognizing that putting on a bra for the first time can't be easy with one hand.

Two short minutes later, with Regina's assistance, he's wearing what he can only assume is very expensive lingerie. He now realizes that she planted it in her laundry, and he should have realized while folding it that it was made for men.

The panties (he grimaces at the word) fit him perfectly. They were obviously designed for someone with a penis. The silk is uncomfortably smooth and light against his skin, and his cheeks are burning when he realizes that Regina doesn't even look interested as she observes him.

"This will do." She steps away from her dresser. "Oh—and by the way, dear, I threw your clothes in the trash. Now that you belong to me, I can't have you seen in rags."

"You what? Regina, you can't do that, I only have one other pair of j—"

"Oh hush." She gives his cheek a pat. "Don't worry, I've taken care of it. Come with me." She gestures for him to follow her out of the room, and so he does, all too aware of what he's wearing as they make their way to the spare bedroom.

"This is where you will be staying when I grant you permission to sleep here." She explains, and he's painfully aware of how expensive everything in the room is. With little flourish, she opens the closet, and he sees that it's full. "I've taken the liberty of re-furnishing your wardrobe."

"I…" He feels incredibly awkward. As a pirate, becoming rich enough to afford luxury was technically the plan, but he'd become accustomed to (and rather enjoyed) his rough lifestyle. This was paradise, and it made him uncomfortable. "Thank you." He says quickly, remembering his manners. "But I don't—"

"Oh, but you do." She corrects him, laying out a pair of dark jeans, a crisp white button-down, and a blazer on the bed. "You will wear this to dinner. If you're good, I may let you pick out your own clothes in the future."

"How did you know my size?" He asks, running his fingers over the expensive blazer.

"You're not hard to figure out." Regina informs him, putting a hand on his lower back. Her touch almost burns him. He wants more. "Before you get dressed, take a look in the mirror." She places a gentle, chaste kiss to his cheek. "I'll wait downstairs."

He's left alone again, and does as she asks, turning towards the full-length mirror on the closet door. It doesn't look right. His body isn't at all feminine—his chest is too hairy for a bra. At the same time…there's something exciting about it.

Swallowing hard, he pulls on the clothes that Regina set out for him (they fit like a glove, of course) and looks himself over in the mirror, making sure that there's no way anyone will be able to tell what he's wearing under his clothes.

No else one will know.

Except Regina.

With that thought in his head, he goes downstairs to greet the mayor. She's changed into a knee-length black dress with a conservative neckline, her lips blood red and incredibly inviting.

He's never kissed her. He's not sure if he ever will.

"Are you ready?" She asks, and he's suddenly under the impression that she's imagining what he looks like underneath the clothes she's bought him. He's not sure how he feels about having her buy him such nice things, but his reaction to it isn't necessarily _bad_.

"Yes."

"Good." She takes him by the elbow and leads him out the door.


	3. Manners

Lesson 2: Manners

As Regina drives them to the restaurant, he becomes acutely aware of the lingerie he's wearing. The bra is a new adjustment, and he's not sure how he feels about it, until he thinks about the way that Regina looked at him after he put it on.

The panties are fucking ridiculous. They're incredibly smooth and comfortable, and he's not at all happy about how good they feel.

When they arrive, they are led to the back of the dining area. The restaurant, one of the most expensive in Storybrooke, run by Chef Louis, is humming with conversation. Hook understands why Regina chose it. No one is going to hear what they talk about, or really be able to see them in their secluded booth.

"Get whatever you like." She informs him after they've been brought wine and bread. "This is a celebratory occasion, after all." The waiter leaves with their orders, and Regina turns her attention to the man across from her. "There are some things I want to discuss before we draw up our second contract tomorrow."

"Okay." He agrees, shifting slightly and scratching his shoulder where his bra strap is irritating him. "What?"

"First, and most importantly, Henry. I am disinclined to take any chance of exposing the nature of our relationship to him. He'll be back from summer camp in just over a week, after all."

"Right." Killian agrees wholeheartedly. "So what do you suggest, then?"

"I only have Henry every other week. I propose that we only see one another while my son is in the custody of Ms. Swan." Her words are bitter. It's clear that she doesn't think Henry's birth mother should have any right to his time. He can't say he completely disagrees. Regina did raise the boy, after all. Henry is her son by law, and by right. "That will give you plenty of time to live your life outside of my care."

Killian likes that. He wants to be Regina's (the silk panties are getting a little tight with that thought) but he doesn't think either of them wants to commit to their new relationship 24/7. Killian needs time on his ship, and Regina is still the mayor.

"Accommodating both of our schedules is one of the reasons that I want to structure our relationship on a weekly basis." She adds. "I fully expect you to keep up appearances—though I do hope that by the end of our relationship, you will be slightly less of an egotistical, misogynistic pig."

He wants to object, but instead a question pops out of his mouth.

"So I can see other women?"

"Of course." She sniffs, her nose in the air. "As long as you don't become diseased, I care little what you do." Her eyes narrow. "Except, of course, that I'm the only one who owns you. You can stick your poor excuse for a cock," The appendage in question springs to life at her words. "in anyone you choose, but you don't belong to any of them. You belong to _me_. Is that clear?"

"Crystal." He breathes out.

"Good." She takes a long drink of wine, and licks her lips after. "We also need to pick a safe word. Something we can use to let one another know if things have gone too far. After all, I expect _some_ level of resistance from you. I need to know when you're serious." Her eyes crinkle slightly, and she almost smiles. "You're the one whose limits will be tested the most. Do you have any suggestions?"

"A word to make us stop?" Killian asks, leaning back and crossing his arms. "So it should be something that's a big turn-off, right? Something that would make both of us lose interest in no time at all."

"Not necessarily—why? Did you have a suggestion?"

"Well I think that the imp himself is the biggest mood-killer for both of us, so why not "gold"?" He asks, and Regina almost spits out her drink because she's started laughing. "I'll take that as a yes." He grins.

Their food arrives in the next few minutes, and they both eat with gusto.

"So what else did you want to talk about? More contract stuff?" He asks, his mouth full of pasta.

"Mm." Her mouth quirks down at the marinara sauce at his chin, but she makes no comment. "I wanted to talk to you about what you'll address me as when we're alone—or in public, if I request it."

"Alright. What do you want?" He asks, picking up his napkin and wiping his face.

"Your Majesty." She said immediately, looking just like the queen that she is with her head held high and a sneer on her lips. "Of course."

"Sounds great." He grins. "And what are you going to call me, _Your Majesty_?"

"Whatever I want, of course."

He swallows hard, and takes a drink. He prefers rum to wine, but isn't going to complain. Not tonight, anyway. She smiles at him almost fondly, and he's hyper-conscious of the way that his cock his half-hard in his panties.

"…and where are we going after this? Are you taking me back to my ship, or am I going home with you?"

She almost looks offended.

"You're going home with me, of course. There are other things we need to talk about—but not here." He feels her foot rub briefly against his calf, and half-heartedly hopes that it will keep moving up. He could really use a hand on his cock right now, but doesn't dare try it himself.

Regina takes a long look at him, and he realizes that she knows how aroused he is.

"What's the matter, _Captain_?" She breathes out, leaning across the booth slightly. "Are your panties getting wet?"

He almost comes.

"Answer me." Her voice hardens.

"Yes." He admits, voice barely audible.

"Yes _what_?" She asks, her words slow and clear. "Answer the question properly."

"Yes…" He hesitates, and only continues when her jaw clenches. "Yes my panties are getting wet." It's true. His cock is straining against his jeans, and he's certain that there's a wet patch in the silk. Killian can't even look at her now. His face is turned down, and he stares at his empty plate in shame. "Your Majesty." He adds as an afterthought.

"Such a shame. If you're that frustrated, then take care of yourself. And don't look away from me."

As soon as he's given permission, his hand drops down so that he can rub himself. It takes another moment for him to glance up at her. He expected her to appear absolutely ravenous, and is surprised and disappointed when she is calm and collected. He pauses for a moment.

"Don't stop." She whispers, and he obeys. "No matter what happens, don't stop."

In just a few seconds, it's clear that she was watching their waiter approach the table to offer them the check and one last glass of wine. He knows that his hand can't be seen under the tablecloth, but he almost stops touching himself until he realizes that Regina is still watching him.

As the waiter refills their glasses, takes Regina's credit card, and then retreats, he bites down hard on his lower lip. Close. He unzips his jeans and starts rubbing himself through the fabric separating his fingers from his arousal. It's incredibly soft, and the feel of his cock under the silk is enough to make him whimper.

The sound makes Regina smile.

"Careful. You wouldn't want anyone to hear you." She pauses, and leans her head against one of her hands, an elbow on the table. "Of course, I suppose that asking you to be quiet implies that you have self control."

"You don't, do you? You're just stupid. Reckless. I could _never_ expect you to take care of yourself. That's why you need _me_." He's so fucking close. It's getting harder and harder not to keep quiet, and he eventually lets out another moan, unable to help himself.

She laughs at him, and just like that he's coming and hiding his face in the crook of an elbow to stay quiet.

"Good." She reaches under the table and gives his knee a pat. "Now zip yourself up, and let's go." He nods helplessly into his elbow, and altogether misses a very confused waiter returning Regina's credit card.

As they walk out of the restaurant, he realizes how uncomfortable his underwear is post-orgasm.

"Pardon, but mind if I go back in to use the bathroom and clean up?" He asks, stopping just outside the car.

"If I wanted you to clean up, I would have told you to." Regina says shortly, opening Killian's door for him. "It's hardly my fault that you got over-excited, why should I waste _my _time waiting for you?"

A little self-conscious despite himself, he slips into the car without another word and doesn't say anything.

"That slip of the tongue combined with your atrocious table manners doesn't reflect well on your character." She shakes her head and pulls away from the sidewalk. "I'm going to have to punish you. How sad. I would have thought you could go at least one day without stepping out of line."

At those words, Killian stiffens and turns to look at her, heartbeat radiating from his chest up through his ears. This is what he's been the most curious about.

"What are you going to do?" He asks, unable to hide his curiosity.

Regina chuckles.

"Oh, my dear. Why tell you when I can show you?"


	4. Punishment 101

Lesson 3: Punishment 101

Regina pulls into her driveway, and speaks without looking at him.

"Go to your room and wait for me."

Not about to embarrass himself again, he does as he's told and high-tails it out of the car, only realizing that he needs to wait for Regina to unlock the door when it's too late.

She's almost smiling, and he mutters incoherently as she lets him into the house so that he can do as he's told. They both go upstairs and head to their respective bedrooms. He sits on the edge of his mattress, and frowns because his panties feel sticky and uncomfortable, and he very much wants to clean up but knows better, even so early in their relationship, than that.

"I'm glad that you did as your were told and waited."

Killian looks up and sees that Regina hasn't changed. He thinks he sees her set something down just outside the door before passing through the door, but isn't sure. She walks forward and stands six or so feet in front of him, arms crossed.

"Strip down to your underwear. You may leave things where they drop, provided that you clean them up before you go to bed." She orders. He's eager to comply, and stands up to shed his clothing as quickly as possible until he's standing nearly bare in front of her, save for the lingerie that she'd had him dress in earlier that night.

"Hm." She taps her chin and looks him up and down. "You're such an ungrateful boy."

"Excuse me?" He asks. She cocks an eyebrow. "Your Majesty." He adds.

"I bought these lovely things just for you—oh don't look at me like that, it's not my fault that you couldn't fold them correctly—and look what you've done. Just look at the dirty mess that you've made in your panties."

The last word leaves her lips, and his face burns with shame. He looks down to avoid her gaze, and sees that she's not exactly wrong. The front of his underwear are wet with evidence of his release. There's no hiding what happened at dinner.

"I think that you owe me an apology." Regina adds. "Tell me you're sorry."

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty." He mutters, and she tut-tuts and shakes her head.

"You think that's appropriate for a _queen_?" She sneers, and points to her feet. "You're a pirate. You've spent half of your life begging royalty for the right to live, so you should know better. You belong to me, and you have disappointed me. Prove that you're sorry."

"You can' be s—" He sees just how serious she is when he glances up, and a moment later he's on his knees at her feet.

"Better. Now what do you have to say to me?" She asks, pressing down against the top of his head with one of her shoes. He feels the pressure against his scalp, and curses his body for responding to degradation with desire.

Held down, he grits his teeth and continues.

"I'm sorry for embarrassing you, Your Majesty."

"Be specific."

"I'm sorry for embarrassing you at dinner with my poor manners."

"That's hardly enough. You could be apologizing for anything to anyone." She scoffs. "Be specific. You should be begging for forgiveness—you ruined the first gift I gave to you! I should throw you out now. What _exactly _did you do?

"Your Majesty, I'm sorry for my table manners and for…" He begins, and takes a deep breath because if he doesn't get this all out at once he's never going to say it at all. "…and for ruining my new panties. Please forgive me."

She removes her foot, but he doesn't dare try to get up.

"Much better. And what do you have to say to me for buying you dinner? It was very nice of me, you know. I didn't have to do that."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"That's right." She says approvingly, and he relaxes somewhat. "You know—I have another present for you, Killian."

At that, he looks up curiously and cocks an eyebrow, wondering what it is.

"Shall I get it for you? Nod if you'd like to see it." He moves his head up and down, and she smiles and goes to the doorway, leaning over and grabbing whatever it was that he'd seen her set down earlier.

"Do you like it?" She asks, holding out an exquisite, expensive-looking, black riding crop. "I bought it just for you—I haven't used it on any of my other pets. It's brand new." There have been others? That's a bigger turn-on than it should be. "I thought that you deserved something special." She pauses, and he realizes what he's supposed to do.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." He says quickly, and she smiles approvingly.

"Has anyone ever hit you with one of these before?" She asks bluntly, gently brushing the edge of the crop across his cheeks. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, feeling the leather grace his lips.

It smells amazing—fresh and new—and before he knows exactly what he's doing, his mouth has opened slightly. He closes it just as quickly, but realizes that the small gesture was likely not lost on Regina.

"And what would you say if I told you that I wanted to hit that pretty little ass of yours until your new panties are in tatters?" She gently hits the side of his face with the crop, and he whimpers. "Excuse me? Speak up? Would you like that, Killian? Would you like it if I spanked you until you couldn't sit down for a week?"

"Yes." He squeezes his eyes shut, unwilling to meet Regina's gaze. "Yes, Your Majesty. I would like it."

"That's what I thought." She gives his chin a tap, and then steps back. "Stand up, and bend over the bed."

He immediately does as he's told, surprised that he no longer thinks the idea of someone with his physique wearing lingerie is ridiculous. If anything, he thinks to himself, his abundance of body hair and muscled form might make the silk look even prettier than it would on a woman.

Regina drags the crop along the curve of his ass, and he moans into the mattress.

"I imagine that you've never _really_ experienced anything like this." Regina drawls, peppering the area beneath his buttocks with gentle, harmless slaps. It's clear that she hasn't yet begun. "…and yet you're so eager. It makes me think that you've thought about it before. Have you?"

"…yes." He admits, glad that Regina can't see how red his face is.

"That's what I thought." She sounds smug, but he supposes that she's earned it. A stinging slap lands on his ass a moment later, and he lets out a cry. "Oh, my dear—do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you before our time is through?"

He doesn't answer.

"I didn't think so. As it's our first night together, so let me tell you." She pauses. "…but first, arch your back. Spread your legs. Let me see whether or not I'm really interested in what you have to offer."

Blushing from his back to his ears, he does as he's told.

"Good." Regina pauses, and hits him again. "Now, as I was saying…I can only assume that you've never let anyone fuck you."

He knows what she means, and bites down hard on his lip to stay quiet. He's getting hard again, and he hates himself as much as he loves what she's doing to him.

"I'm going to fuck you. Eventually. Until then, I don't think that I'll need to touch you at all, really. You obviously know how to take care of yourself where your orgasms are concerned, if nothing else." She announces. "You're going to have to work very hard to please me, first. In fact…" Another slap. "Maybe I'll let someone else fuck you first—would you like that? Maybe I'll invite David over, and have him fill you up until you deserve attention from _real_ royalty."

He arches his back even further, and grips the sheets hard. How the hell did she know about _that_ fantasy? He would never, even at his drunkest and his darkest, tell anyone what he really thought about Prince Charming.

"You'd like that, I see. I thought so. You need to control yourself, dear. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's noticed the way you look at him."

"I'm not—" Killian starts to say, because even if he's had those thoughts, it doesn't make them real. He's as straight as they come.

"I never said you were." She cuts him off. "But oh my, it seems that we've gotten side-tracked. I'm afraid I let myself get caught up in the moment. I only wanted to show you your new present. I forgot to tell you your punishment."

Brow furrowed, he looks over his shoulder. Hadn't he already been punished?

"I was going to use this on you tonight." She explains. "I was going to beat your ass until it was raw, but I'm afraid that you simply aren't yet performing up to my standards." She sighs. "I suppose that we're going to have to wait until tomorrow. That's how I'm punishing you."

"But—"

"No buts." Her mouth quirks up at the unintentional pun. "You will clean yourself up, pick up your clothes, and go to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a big day for you. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."


	5. Limits

(Yo: This is the chapter in which I make it even more abundantly clear that this fic is 500000% about consent and Regina is a good domme who cares about her submissive and wants to make sure that he is comfortable and safe in everything that they do as a d/s pair, especially considering that Killian is new to this. Also in this chapter they're using a BDSM checklist—you can find them online pretty easily if you want to look at an example.)

**Limits**

That night, Killian sleeps surprisingly well. In the morning, he wakes to the smell of eggs and bacon wafting upstairs from the kitchen. Sitting up, he cracks his neck and gets to his feet, pausing next to his bed.

He can only assume that the room is full of things that Regina has bought for him, and is momentarily torn between going downstairs and going through his closet. Hunger soon wins over curiosity, and he makes his way to the kitchen.

Regina is there, dressed and made-up and looking ready for the day.

"Good morning." She says, gesturing for him to sit down across from her at the island in the center of her kitchen. "How did you sleep?"

"Well, thanks." He starts eating immediately. "You?"

"The same." She assures him, neatly alternating between her food and the cup of coffee next to her plate. "Before our day truly begins, I wanted to talk about yesterday."

"What about it?" He asks, thinking about the soiled panties in his hamper as color rises in his cheeks.

"I know that it wasn't particularly intense, even compared to what we did before signing the contract, but I wanted to make sure that you're still comfortable with our arrangement." She looks sincere and attentive.

"No complaints." He says honestly.

"Wonderful." Her demeanor changes, and she pushes a piece of paper across the counter that he hadn't noticed before. "Before you woke up, I took the liberty of drawing up a preliminary contract based on our conversation last night. If it's to your liking, we can both sign it today."

He nods to show that he's listening, and begins to look it over, surprised to see that she's written it by hand. It covers much of what they'd discussed the day before, and in the week leading up to the start of their relationship. It covers their safe word, loose guidelines for misbehavior and punishment, Killian's specific duties for the week, and other details that are subject to change.

At the bottom of the page, she's scribbled the word _limits?_ and underlined it.

"Limits?" He looks up and sees that Regina is pouring him a cup of coffee. "Can't we just figure it out as we go?"

"No." Regina says firmly. "One of my responsibilities is to make sure that, no matter what we do, you are safe. It would be reckless and unacceptable to avoid the topic."

"Yeah well what if I don't want to have it?" Killian asks, growing defensive. The last thing he wants to do is discuss his weaknesses with Regina—or his limits, or whatever. "I can take whatever you dish out."

"No you can't." Regina says flatly. "Believe me." She reaches out and puts a hand on his, the touch surprisingly gentle. "I thought you might be uncomfortable with this conversation, so I have taken the liberty of printing off some information, including a list of potential…activities."

Her nose crinkles slightly, and she continues to speak.

"Some of them I'm sure neither of us would consider, but printing off a pre-made, extensive, list was easier than making one myself and potentially forgetting something important. Read it, fill out the list accordingly, and we will reconvene."

"Alright." Killian agrees, loosely holding her hand. The physical contact makes him feel better. "You're so damn thorough…" He mutters.

"Well, one of us has to be." Regina laughs. "You're doing a good job." She adds. "I know that it must be a little upsetting to be so excited about something that you know so little about."

He nods, because she's right. That's exactly the problem. He wants to serve and belong to her (and he does now, which is _fantastic_). What he feels is more than just something sexual. The desire runs deeper than that.

It's a feeling that he's never had before, and it's almost frightening. He hadn't expected her to understand that, heaven forbid articulate it.

"You can always come to me with questions." She adds, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. "We have to be open with one another for this to work, you know. I can't make the right decisions if I don't know what you want."

"Okay." He's not sure what else to say.

"Good." Standing, she turns around and picks up a manila folder from the counter next to the stove. "Take this, go through it, and find me when you're finished."

"You aren't going to help me?" He asks before he can stop the question from leaving his lips. Regina actually looks a little startled.

"Help you?" She echoes. "I would have thought that this is something you'd prefer to do in private. Your pride and all."

"Oh." His face heats up as he realizes that she was trying to be considerate. "Well…" Part of it is just that he wants to be near her. He knows that she was the Evil Queen not all that long ago, and that he shouldn't trust her, but something about the way that she's handling their relationship makes him certain that she's shown him nothing but honesty.

There isn't any love between them (that would be awkward) but there's certainly trust.

"If you'd like me to be present while you go through this, you're welcome to join me in my office while I do paperwork."

"If you insist." He takes the folder, the contract, and stands. "Now?"

"You may go now. I'll join you shortly." She picks up their empty plates and moves to the sink to rinse them off. In a conversation they'd had weeks before upon discovering Killian's interest in doing chores for her, they'd soon realized that dishes were too complicated with only one hand.

The pirate makes his way upstairs and to Regina's home-office. It's smaller than her office downtown, but no less elegant. He makes himself comfortable in a chair at the back of the room, and starts reading one of the neatly stapled articles that Regina has printed off for him.

Soft limits. Hard limits. Sub-space. Aftercare. He's been thinking about some of these ideas for a while, but hasn't known what they are called. He's halfway through the last article when Regina walks in, acknowledges him with a glance, and sits down at her desk to start working.

Soon he's reading through the checklist. Regina's already gone through and answered them herself. It's a fairly simple process—all he has to do is rate the kink, say if he's done it before, and then put down his level of interest. He's pleased to see that their mutual answers are nearly completely identical.

There's nothing that one of them is adamantly against that the other is terribly curious about, and they both seem to be excited about the same things. The only thing that gives him pause is how many of the listed activities Regina's done before.

Killian, still a novice to the lifestyle that Regina is helping him enter, considers lying to make himself more experienced. He decides against it. It could only lead to problems—and besides, she'd probably be able to tell.

As he finishes reading through and filling out the list, he's pleased to see that she's only given one extra comment (though in places, the heavy lines left by her pen give away her strong opinions).

Under the field marked "Given Away: Permanent", which references the permanent gifting of a submissive to a new dominant partner, she's scribbled a note.

_Absolutely not. What's mine is mine._

"What if I wanted to belong to someone else?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow and looking at Regina.

She doesn't respond right away, but he's sure that she's heard him and understands what he's referencing.

"Then we can dissolve our contract, and you may join the service of whomever you wish. But I refuse to give away my favorite things, and for the moment at least, you pique my interests."

His stomach feels like it's full of butterflies. Gross.

"I take it you've finished?" She adds, meeting his gaze.

"Mm." He stands up and walks to the desk, handing her the folder. "Are you going to write the weekly contract now?"

He knows that it's going to change as they continue to work together, but he's excited to read the first draft. Once it's finished and signed, they can _really_ begin their new relationship.

"Yes. We can sign it at dinner." She nods thoughtfully. "…I was considering having our first real session tonight, but have decided I would rather postpone until tomorrow. It will give you more time to prepare mentally, and I'll be able to finish denying all of Ms. Swan's requests to give the sheriff's department more money. I'd rather not have to think about her while we're together if I can help it."

"That's fine—so…" His brow furrows. "How do I know when we're being…you know?" In-character? He's not sure what to call it.

"You'll learn, dear. Quickly, I hope." She assures him, looking down the checklist and taking in his responses. "You may go now, if you wish. You're welcome to stay, but I can only assume that you have other business to attend to."

"I can stay." Killian says quickly. "Is…there anything that you'd like me to do?"

"Perhaps you should go to your room and look at all of the nice things that I've purchased for you." She suggests, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You may find yourself asking me to drive you to the harbor later so that you can pick up a something to wear while we're not at play."

He's unsure what she means until he gets to his bedroom and pulls open the top drawer of his dresser. There are no boxers or briefs—not the kind he's used to, anyway. Mostly, it's just silk and lace.

Killian makes sure that the door is closed and the blinds are drawn before trying one each pair, one after the other. He picks out his favorite, and wears it to dinner under his jeans.


	6. Session 1

Tw: spanking, verbal degradation, face-slapping, general d/s stuff…

Chapter 6: Session 1

The afternoon following their discussion on limits, Regina strides into his room to draw the blinds in and give him explicit instructions on what to do before they begin. Afterwards, as he's showering per her instructions, he wonders what's going to happen.

Before signing the contract, Regina had always been careful, because they'd still been getting to know one another and she hadn't wanted to push him too far. She'd really only given him orders, and occasionally done things like give him permission to come or touch himself. He's still never touched her or seen her undress, and isn't sure if it's ever going to happen.

Reaching down, he gives his cock a few languid jerks but then stops. He doesn't want to do anything to himself right now—not when Regina is waiting. She was explicit in telling him to be thorough when he washed. A shiver runs down his spine despite the hot water as he remembers what she'd told him about her intentions.

"_I'm going to fuck you_."

He knows that it won't be today or any time soon, but he can't stop thinking about it. Briefly, he reaches behind himself and rubs against his hole a few times, wondering what it's going to feel like when they reach that point. Part of him can't wait to find out.

When he leaves the shower, a towel around his waist, he finds that Regina is waiting for him perched in a chair next to his bed. He stops in the doorway, unsure what to do without being given any commands.

"Come in. Sit down." She says softly. Once he's seated on the edge of the mattress, she meets his gaze. "Before we begin, I need to ask. Do you have any questions?"

"Just one." He admits. "I…I was wondering—am I still allowed to touch myself? I mean, I know we agreed that we can sleep with other people, b—"

"What brought this on?" Regina asks. "And what do you think?"

"I…" Killian shrugs and runs his fingers through his damp, dark hair. "I was in the shower, and I started thinking about you a—"

"Oh." The way that Regina says that one simple word brings life to Killian's cock. She sounds like she's just uncovered buried treasure. "You don't think that you should be allowed to think of me when you touch yourself. Is that it?"

He hadn't thought about it like that before, but he realizes that she's right. Killian nods.

"That's wonderful, Killian." Regina coos, cupping his face in both hands and looking at him. "I never expected you to be so thoughtful. You're right, that shouldn't be allowed. In fact, you really shouldn't be allowed to touch yourself without my consent at all while you're under my roof, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." He says quickly, blushing as he realizes that their faces are very close, but she's never going to kiss him.

"Not that I'm heartless, of course." Her mouth quirks up at the pun. "If you want to take care of yourself, you may come to me and ask me for permission. I'll decide whether or not you've been behaving well enough to deserve it. Is that acceptable?"

All that he can do is nod enthusiastically as she removes her hands. It burns where she's touched him.

"Wonderful. I'll amend our contract later. For now…" She looks him up and down. "Stand up, drop the towel, and bend over. Don't look at me unless I say that you're allowed."

At an embarrassingly quick pace, he does as he's told and bends over the bed after kicking the towel away. He crosses his arms against the mattress and lets his head rest between them, waiting for Regina to continue. He hears her stand up.

"Do you remember what I showed you last night? What I bought for you?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Now that they're actually playing, he needs more than ever to remember what to call her.

"Good. In that case, you remember that last night I didn't think you were behaving well enough for me to use it. However, today seems much more promising, and I think that we can go ahead as planned."

He can feel the edge of the riding crop brush against his ass. Regina must have been hiding it behind the chair. How long before she hits him? Unable to help himself, he tenses up, just in case.

"If we are going to continue, you need to present yourself properly. Arch your back—and spread your knees." He does. "Good. That's much better. Don't move. Now, assuming that this is what you want, ask me to hit you."

It's a little unnerving how easy it's becoming to forgo his dignity in favor of attention from Regina.

"Hit me."

"That's not good enough." She clicks her tongue disapprovingly, pressing the crop against the small of his back. "Try again."

"Please hit me."

She answers by landing a sharp hit to his ass. He can't help but flinch, the sensation still somewhat new. Killian's used to fighting, but this is an entirely different kind of pain.

"I can't wait to hear what kind of pretty noises you make when it _really_ starts to hurt." She laughs, and he bits down on his lip and tries to ignore how hard he is already. They've barely even done anything. "Now, dear, just hold still."

She hits him again, and he decides that the harsh sting is a feeling that he can definitely get used to. On the third and fourth hit she moves to his other side, and he can just imagine her making sure that his ass cheeks are equally red.

It's starting to hurt more now, and it's not until she stops that he realizes just how much his position has shifted.

"I told you not to move, didn't I?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." He admits, realizing that his back is barely arched and he's practically kneeling in an attempt to shield himself as the hits became more and more painful.

"And yet, here you are. Do you have something to say to me, dear?"

"I'm sorry." He's quick to get back into position, acutely aware of the pressure on his knees. "Please don't stop, Your Majesty."

"Good. You _should_ apologize. I know that you're still becoming acquainted with what we do together, but you should _at least_ be able to uphold proper posture for me. Especially considering how far I am from being finished."

He nearly glances over his shoulder, but remembers that she's said not to look at her unless given permission. His backside is aching, and he can't imagine that she's going to continue much longer. She wouldn't? Would she?

"Last night you agreed that you'd like me to spank you until you can't sit down for a week. I intend to fulfill that promise to the best of my abilities. Now don't move, or I'll have you brace yourself in front of an _open_ window instead, so that everyone can see what a slut you are."

That four-letter word sends a rush of arousal through him, and he can't help but whimper.

"What's wrong? Do you like being told the truth?" She hits him harder than before, and he starts to focus on keeping his back arched and his ass up so that she won't reprimand him. "You're such a pathetic, needy little creature. It's a wonder that you've ever been with a woman at all. You have no idea how lucky you are that I'm giving you any attention—that anyone ever has."

He's hard and leaking against the bedspread, and desperately wants to move his hips even a little to try and get off. Perhaps unfortunately, the captain knows better than that.

The hits are spaced fairly far apart now. He never knows when the crop is going to come down, and so he's constantly tense, his fists clenched and eyes shut as he waits. When they come, they're unbearably hard and his ass is throbbing and raw now because even when he's not being hit, he hurts.

"You're such a lovely shade of red, right now, dear." Regina observes. "I can't wait to see what colors you've turned by tomorrow."

"I only wish that the whole town could see how you look like this." She sighs almost wistfully, and Killian thinks about what it would be like if she was doing this to him in front of other people. The thought makes him moan. "Bent over, at my disposal."

"Stand up, turn around, and kneel in front of me. I want to see your face. You may look at me."

Killian stands up, and a few of his joints crack and he realizes that even though it's nothing compared to how his ass feels, he's pretty sore from staying in the same position for so long. As he turns around to face Regina and kneel down, he's very aware of how hard he is.

"You really have no self-control. Honestly, do you get hard every time you get a paper cut?" Regina shakes her head a little as she observes his erection, one hand on her hip and the other holding the crop. She's fully dressed, and looks as if she's been doing paperwork instead of playing with her submissive. "We'll work on that."

Taking his chin, he tilts his head up so that their eyes meet. She sets down the riding crop, and flexes her hand.

"Don't close your eyes, and don't look away." She whispers, and then slaps him in the face with little warning. It throws him off guard, and he squeezes his eyes shut despite himself although he makes no move to get up. "I said don't close your eyes."

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty." He says immediately, turning his head back to her, determined to do better when she hits him again. He hopes that she hits him again.

"I can only imagine that a man like you has been slapped, rightfully so I'm sure, by plenty of women." She says. "I'm certain that you deserved each and every assault to that pretty face of yours, but you need to know that this is nothing like that. Now, ask me to do it again. You may blink if you truly need to."

"Please hit me again, Your Majesty. Please." The pirate says immediately, tilting his chin up slightly to make it easier for her, his eyes trained on the queen like she's his entire world.

He wants to feel her touch on him long after they've parted.

"Good boy."

There isn't any time to let the compliment settle, because almost immediately she hits him again. And again. And again. It's excruciating to keep his eyes open, and before long there are tears running down the cheek that the queen is abusing as he struggles to keep eye contact and not move away from her incoming hand.

She's clearly being careful. Her slaps are all hitting his cheek, and he doesn't fear for his mouth or his eyes getting hit. He has to blink after a little while, but only keeps his eyes closed for a split second.

When she'd been spanking him, his face had been hidden and he'd been able to keep his expression and his thoughts private. Here, like this, he can't hide anything. Regina can probably see just how hard he's trying to please her. How hard he's trying to be good.

This just might be the most vulnerable he's ever been.

He can't hide _anything_ from her. And he doesn't want to.

She hits him again, and he realizes that he's not hard anymore, but his heart is racing like he's out on the open seas. It feels like it might beat right out of his chest. From the beginning there's been a generous amount of time between the slaps, but that just gives him a greater opportunity to see the way that she looks at him.

There's nothing but focus in her face. She could be doing magic, or making breakfast. If he wasn't kneeling naked in front of her praying to be touched again, he wouldn't know that she was doing anything remotely deviant. He could be anyone, or anything.

That brings up a thought that's almost enough to bring life back to his cock. She could have chosen anyone to do this with, but she hadn't. It had been him. She'd chosen him. And what was it that she'd told him the other day? That he was one of her favorite things?

Killian doesn't know how to articulate what's happening, or how he's feeling. He's letting Regina hit him in the face, and he likes it, and heknows that _she _knows what's best for him. More than that, he trusts her. He really does.

There's nothing that he wants more than to please her.

What had she said? That other women had hit him? She wasn't wrong. Back in his prime, he'd been slapped almost daily by women he'd wronged. Was this punishment for that? Was he supposed to think about what he'd done wrong?

How would Regina react if he if he disrespected a woman like that now? The idea of Regina being truly disappointed in him is a thought that brings unexpected panic to him, even as Regina's hand, firm but kind because she knows what's best, meets his face.

The extreme vulnerability that he feels coupled with his anxiety over _ever _displeasing Regina is more than he can take. It's not something that he understands, but quite suddenly there's a sob catching in his throat and tears in his eyes and Regina is no longer standing above him.

Just like when they started, she cups his face with her hands. This time, it's partially to brush his tears away with her thumbs. He realizes that he's shaking when he moves to grip her arms in order to steady himself.

"Are you alright?" Regina asks, and there's nothing but concern in her voice and her expression. He nods a little, and relief breaks out on her face. "Good. Do you know what happened?"

The pirate's not sure that he can say anything, but sudden shame overwhelms him as he realizes that he couldn't even get through their first session without making a fool of himself. Instead of answering her question, he abruptly looks down and squeezes his eyes shut.

"It's okay, Killian. Breathe with me." She says slowly, drawing in a deep breath and then letting it out. He realizes that he's been holding his breath and is quick to copy her. It only takes him a minute or so to calm down.

"I'm sorry." It's the first thing that he says. "You could have kept going."

"It's my job to take care of you." Regina objects. "Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah, I don't know what happened. Sorry."

That's true. He doesn't know exactly what happened, but stopping was the right thing to do. His embarrassment only grows as he realizes that he'd forgotten about their safe word, and he probably should have used it.

"Don't apologize." Regina runs her fingers through his hair. "Are you tired? I imagine that took a lot out of you."

At first, Killian wants to object. Why would he be tired? He's basically been staying in place since they started, save for when he turned around. Then he realizes just how exhausted he is.

"I'm fine."

"_Killian_."

"I'm…I'm a little tired, sure." He admits, blushing. Now that he's come down from the state he was in when he started crying, he's realizing just how drained he feels.

"That's fine. Why don't you come downstairs and I'll make you something to eat, and then later we can talk about this. I'd like to know what went wrong and what went right. I'm still getting to know you as your domme, and I need to know."

Killian nods, stands, and realizes how much his ass and face hurt. He hopes that the ache is going to carry on for the rest of the week, or at least a few days.

Regina presses a folded pair of sweatpants into his hands.

"Alright, dear. Whenever you're ready."

A half an hour later, when Killian is curled up on the couch with his head in Regina's lap as she does paperwork and he dozes, he thinks that today was the start to something wonderful.


	7. Reward 1 Pt 1

SO THERE'S THIS TUMBLR BLOG FOR OUAT CONFESSIONS AND I SAW THIS ONE post/104693000807 "I just started reading a dom!Regina/sub!Killian fic the other day, and now I ship Hooked Queen way too fucking hard". I AM SCREAMING BECAUSE THIS EITHER MEANS A) THERE IS ANOTHER FIC LIKE THIS (please link me) OR B) SOMEONE LIKES THIS FIC ENOUGH TO MAKE A CONFESSION EIHTER WAY I AM SO HAPPYYY

It's three days before Regina brings up trying something new. Henry will be coming home the next day, and she says that they should make the most of their last day together before Killian returns to his ship to wait for the house to be empty again.

Leaving isn't something that he wants to think about. Being under Regina's roof and care is something that it hasn't taken him long to get used to. It's not all about the sex (is it sex? She never _really_ touches him) like he thought it would be.

In the past few days, Regina has been taking very good care of him. There are still bruises on his ass, but his face bears no evidence of her hand and he's eating better than he has in years. That's something that she cares about, apparently. She'd told him that as long as their relationship lasted, she would make sure that he was well-fed and healthy, otherwise how could he keep up with her demands?

He spent a fair amount of time in her office reading while she worked. As a boy in England, he'd pretended to resent reading the classics but had in fact, in secret, absorbed as much as he could. Piracy didn't lend itself to fine literature, and so until coming to Regina's home he hadn't ever really been able to get back into the habit.

The mayor's abode is full of classic literature, and he's burned through several volumes. The Three Musketeers is his favorite so far. Its only flaw was that the author was French, something that, as a former member of the British Navy, offends him greatly.

He's settling into 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea when Regina comes into the living room. She's just gotten home from work, and her coat is still on. He's wearing his roomiest, most well-worn pair of jeans and has forgone a shirt.

Without being asked, he sets down the book and hurries over to take her coat and purse.

"Welcome home." Killian has a hard time keeping his voice even. He doesn't want to give away how happy he is that she's here.

"Thank you." She inclines her head slightly and sits down, waiting for him to return from putting away her things. "I was thinking about you today."

"Really?" He asks, making himself comfortable again with the book in his lap.

"Yes. As you know, Henry is getting back tomorrow. That means that you're going back to your ship until Ms. Swan takes him." She pauses. "How do you feel about leaving?"

"I…" He hesitates, not wanting to come on too strongly. "I'm still getting used to _this_, but I like it, as I'm sure you've noticed. It doesn't seem like I've been here that long at all, and I'd rather not go."

"That's what I hoped you'd say." Regina smiles at him, and a shiver goes down his spine. There's danger in her eyes. "I thought that we could have a little bit of fun before you left. Something to remember me by. How does that sound?"

He perks up immediately.

"Good."

"Wonderful." She leans back in the armchair and crosses her legs, her pencil skirt riding up slightly. It's difficult not to look, but he knows better than to ogle her by now. "Do you believe that you're sufficiently recovered from the other night?"

"Yes." He says honestly, acutely aware of how much his ass still hurts if he sits down the right way.

"That's a very nice white lie. I know that you still have bruises."

"I…maybe." He mumbles, face flushing. He hasn't undressed in front of her for a few days. How could she know? Killian supposes that he isn't the first partner she's treated like this. She probably knows exactly how long it will take for them to fade.

"Come over here and drop your pants. Let me see." She beckons with two fingers, and he tries to ignore what the simple gesture does to his cock.

Slowly walking over, he undoes his belt and zips down his jeans while she watches. His pants fall down a moment later, and he realizes that the blue satin underwear he's wearing might come as a surprise. After all, she hadn't ordered him to wear them.

In fact, she's never even suggested that he might put them on unless she's given the order.

"Oh, my." She says slowly, and he breathes a sigh of relief when it's inclination and not disappointment in her voice. She's pleased. That's good. "I had no idea, Killian."

Reaching out, she puts her hands on his hips over the panties, rubbing her thumbs in small circles against the soft fabric.

"You look so pretty, dear." The compliment sends warmth from his head to his toes, and he can't help but smile. "I'd wondered whether or not you'd start wearing these regularly. I must say, they do suit you."

She briefly runs her index finger along his bulge, seeming to delight in the whimper that immediately leaves his lips. The pirate's only half-hard, but if she keeps talking to him like this, he'll be fully erect before long.

"Now do as you're told, and take them off. I want to see the bruises."

Eager to please, he drops his panties and turns around so that she can see his ass, the flesh still tender from how hard she'd hit him days before. There's some bruising, his skin dark purple where she'd used the riding crop with most enthusiasm. He treasured the marks, and despairs every morning when he wakes to see that they've continued to fade.

"You're so beautiful, marked up like this. Does it still hurt?"

"No." He lies.

Regina gives his ass a slap and he's momentarily brought up onto his toes with a cry.

"Don't lie to me." She warns, giving his ass a squeeze that's not gentle by any means. "You know better than that."

"I'm sorry. Your Majesty." He says immediately, and she hums in approval.

"That's better. I've been thinking…considering that you've been having so well, especially how new you are to this, you deserve a reward."

"Really?" He asks, looking over his shoulder with a cocked eyebrow. "But I couldn't even get through th—"

"I've told you that was nothing to be sorry about. It was a limit that you hadn't anticipated, and I will not push it unless you decide, after an appropriate amount of thought and conversation, that you wish to pursue it again."

She's so methodical.

"Okay." He agrees, because that's all he can do. She's probably right—usually right—always right.

"The other night," Regina continues. "I noticed that up until the end, you were quite enjoying yourself." She squeezes his ass with both hands, softly this time, and spreads his cheeks slightly. "Would you like to come today?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." He says immediately and quickly, tensing up and wondering what she has in mind. "Please."

"That's what I thought. As I've said, you deserve a reward. I'm going to let you come. I'll even let you have a say in how." She takes his hips, turns him around, and then pulls him down so that he's kneeling on the floor in front of her. "This won't happen often, so take advantage of it now. What do you want?"

He knows what he wants to say, but is embarrassed despite himself. It probably shows in his face.

"I…"

"Yes? Speak up, or you won't get anything. I may even have to punish you for being so disrespectful when I'm being so generous."

"Wouldyoufingerme?" He asks as quickly as he possibly can, words running together as his face flushes.

"Say it again, this time at a pace that human ears can interpret." She says firmly, cupping his face so that he has no choice but to look at her. "If you truly want something, you need to be able to ask for it like an adult."

"I…I want you to…" He glances to the right and to the left, not wanting to look her in the eye.

"It's alright." She says gently, moving his head down so that he can put it on her knee instead. That's much better, and he closes his eyes and lets her play with his hair. "I understand that it's difficult for you to ask what you want. You're guided by your pride, and that's not an easy thing to let go of. That's what I'm here for. To help you improve yourself."

"I just…" He swallows hard, and concentrates on how safe he feels at Regina's feet. "I want you inside of me so, _so_ badly." His voice hitches slightly as he imagines what it would be like to have Regina behind him, fucking him, making him hers.

"I'm so happy to hear that." She says warmly. "I'd be happy to start experimenting with that today, if it's truly what you want as your reward."

"It is." Killian admits. Every morning he's been showering as thoroughly as possible just in case it happens. He can't stop thinking about it.

"In that case, go up to your room and I'll join you shortly. I just got home so I'd like a cup of coffee before we begin." Her mouth quirks up and she gives his cheek a soft pinch. "Perhaps you should pick out something _nice _to wear. This is about you, after all…and I'd like to see what you like."

Her voice grows a little quieter, and it makes him pay even more attention.

"Use this as an opportunity to show me exactly what you want."

She releases his hair and stands up.

"I'll see you in twenty minutes. Think about what you desire from this, and make yourself look nice. This is the last time we'll be together for a little while, and I want it to be special."

He nods and stands up, still naked. His attention is on Regina. He's waiting for dismissal.

"Take your clothes, and you may go."

With a grin he can't hold back, he scoops up his pants and hurries out of the room, eager to see where the day is going to take him.


	8. Reward 1 Pt 2

**Rewards 101**

Upstairs, Killian stands in front of his open closet, still naked after his conversation with Regina, and wonders what to wear. Regina has filled it with fitted jeans and blazers, crisp button-downs and folded t-shirts. His dresser is full of little scraps of satin and lace, and although he's looking forward to picking _that _part of his outfit out, he wants to look _really_ good for the queen when she comes to see him.

He picks out a newly washed, crisp pair of jeans, a white button-down, and a dark gray blazer, setting them down on the bed before moving over to his dresser. It's a similar outfit to what he'd worn when they went out to dinner to celebrate the signing of their contract.

Pulling open the drawer, he looks down and wonders what he should wear underneath everything else. The black ensemble that he'd worn to dinner has been cleaned, folded, and put away. Briefly he considers it, but ultimately decides to wear something new. There are at least half a dozen pairs of panties in the drawer, matching bras folded neatly underneath them.

The captain finds himself drawn to a deep purple set that reminds him of Regina. It's a struggle to get the bra on with only one hand, but he manages. The panties are next, and he lets out a happy sigh, letting himself enjoy the feeling of soft fabric against his flaccid cock. It doesn't take long for him to dress completely, and he takes the time to admire himself in a mirror.

It's impossible to tell what he's wearing under the masculine, stylish, clothes that Regina has filled his closet with. He likes that. If he wanted to, he could walk right out the door and no one would know his secret. The thought brings his cock slightly to attention.

His next stop is the bathroom. After wetting a comb, he runs it through his hair until it's neat and slightly damp. He pulls out a stick of eyeliner—so much less messy than kohl, he's found—and carefully traces around his eyes until they're perfect. Licking his lips, he steps back from the bathroom mirror and looks himself over.

Satisfied, he makes himself comfortable sitting on the edge of his bed and waits for Regina. Only a few minutes later, he hears her walking down the hall. She enters the room and the first thing that she does is set down a small box that looks like it's only just arrived and been opened. He can see the postage label.

He's surprised that she's not as made-up as she has been for their previous encounters in the bedroom.

She isn't wearing heels, for one thing. Just white cotton socks. Her suit is gone, replaced with expensive-looking jogging pants and a white t-shirt. Her hair, just barely long enough, is pulled up. Some of it still falls forward, a little too short to be held back. Her lipstick has been wiped off, but the rest of her makeup is intact.

This is the first time that he's ever seen her anything but dressed to kill—not that she couldn't still kill him—and there's something about it that makes his heart start to race and his breath catch in his throat. She crosses her arms and cocks an eyebrow at him, and for a moment he forgets everything.

His face goes red, and he thinks that he's overdressed. He'd expected her to still be in high-heels and a blazer that cost more than a year's worth of eyeliner. This is a surprise, and it leaves him breathless.

"My, my. You look so handsome." She approaches him and reaches out, taking him by the chin and tilting his head first to one side and then the other so that she can take him in. "You've even taken care of your hair. I've always known that you're vain as a peacock, but I hadn't thought you'd go through the trouble today. I'm very pleased."

He can't help but smile as he takes in the approval in her face and her words.

"As I've said, this is about you. It's a reward. Tell me _exactly_ what you want from this."

Killian swallows hard and his lips part slightly. There are a lot of things he wants to say, but how to say them?

"Would it help you to talk if you were kneeling? Like before?" She asks, and he's quick to nod. A smile on her lips, she sits down next to him and waits for him to move to the floor so that he can let his head rest on one of her knees. "Good boy. Now tell me what you want."

"I want to take off my clothes for you." It's the first thing that comes to mind. "I want to hear what you have to say."

"Do you want me to be nice?" Regina asks, her fingernails gently grazing his scalp.

"No." He admits quietly, delighting in the way that she squeezes his hair in response. "Not even a little bit." He laughs a bit and hides his face against her thigh. "And then…"

"And then you'd like what you asked for downstairs?" She asks gently, the phrase sounding somewhat absurd. All that he can do is nod enthusiastically against her pants, his forehead resting against the breathable fabric. "Wonderful. Shall we begin?"

"Yes, please."

It only takes an instant, but he can feel the atmosphere in the room change. Pulling back slightly, he looks up at Regina. Her lips are drawn into a thin line, and she immediately yanks his head back down.

"Stand up and start to take off your clothes." She says coldly.

Excitement in his veins, he stands and takes a few steps back, keeping his eyes trained on his bare feet as he unbuttons the blazer and lets it drop to the floor. Next he moves his fingers to the top button of his shirt, hesitating when he moves down far enough that he knows the next move he makes will expose the bra.

"I didn't say you could stop. What's wrong? Are you hiding something from me?" Her voice drops an octave. "You know better than that."

Biting his lip, he undoes the next button, and the next, and soon the purple satin is impossible to overlook.

"I can see why you didn't want to show me. That's _hardly_ your color." She criticizes. "Continue. I want to see _everything_."

His shirt hits the ground, and he pulls down the zipper of his jeans, exposing more purple.

"A matching set? I didn't think that pirates cared about color coordination. Then, you've always been a narcissist. I should have expected no less." As his jeans drop down to his ankles, he can practically _hear_ her sneer.

"You're already hard? Pathetic. You stupid boy. And I'd been beginning to think that you had hope of learning self control."

That only makes him ache more.

"It seems like you put an awful lot of effort into getting dressed considering how you tore off your clothes for me with the finesse and speed of a two-copper whore. You could have at least put on a show, but instead you dropped the nice things that I've bought for you like they were rags. What do you have to say to me?"

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty." He says immediately, looking down at the bulge in his panties. "I should have been more respectful."

"That's right. Now come here."

Not looking up, he steps forward until he can see her feet.

"You should be ashamed that it takes this little to excite you_._ I think we both know that unless I do something about it, you're coming to come far before you get what you've asked for. Do you want that?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"That's what I thought. Don't worry. I anticipated this." She pulls a small plastic ring from the pocket of her pants. "I shouldn't have to do this. You should have more self control." Hooking a finger in his panties, she tugs down until his cock springs out, hard and wanting.

Systematically and with no lust in her eyes, she rolls the ring onto the base of his cock and then pulls his underwear back up. He lets out a moan, unused to the pressure keeping him from orgasm.

"There." She reaches up and gives one of his nipples a pinch through the bra he's still wearing. "Well? Aren't you going to thank me for making sure that you won't embarrass yourself?"

"Thank you, Your Majesty." He whimpers, cock throbbing between his legs. Putting on the ring had been the first time she'd touched his cock, and if she'd lingered for even a few more moments before making sure he wasn't going to come, he knows that he would have made a mess.

"Good boy." She stands up, and he realizes just how much taller he is now that she's not in heels. He wonders, not for the first time, how _he_ would look in heels, and his face burns in embarrassment when he realizes just how much he wants to try that in the future. "Now, I'm going to go get something from my room."

He doesn't want her to go, he wants her to stay and never leave, but he nods anyway and tries not to show how much he wants her to stay.

"Don't look at me like that. You're coming with me." She gives his cheek a pat. "Although, there is a condition."

"What is it?" He asks, leaning into her touch and raising an eyebrow.

Eyes crinkling in a little smile, she turns and walks to the doorway, reaching down into the box she'd set down and pulling out something that Killian has been fantasizing about. They're black, and will only raise him about three inches off the ground, but he has no idea how to walk with them and is suddenly very worried that he'll make a fool of himself. She puts them on the ground in front of him and then takes a step back and crossing her arms, her breasts pushed up slightly from the gesture.

"How did you?..." He asks, eyes wide as he stares between the shoes and Regina.

"I've seen you looking at mine enough to think you might want to try." She explains, setting them down in front of him. "Put them on, and follow me to my room. I trust that this is something you can handle."

Raising one foot, he slips it into the first shoe, finding it to be a snug but comfortable (for now) fit. He has a little more trouble with the second one and near stumbles, but soon enough he's standing in front of Regina and feeling very tall.

He marvels at the way that his posture is instantly changed, his back arched and his chest out. The way that Regina stands and walks make more sense now that he knows how it feels.

"It's not going to be as easy to walk in them as you think." She says, tapping her chin and looking him up and down. "But my, my they do suit you. You look very pretty, Killian. In your panties and your new shoes."

Coming up to him, she slips a hand up under his bra and rolls a nipple between her fingers. His cock is hot and hard between his legs, and he just might start crying if she doesn't let him come.

"Look at you, with your lingerie and your new shoes. I had no idea that you could look so lovely." She turns and approaches the door. "Follow me."

He stumbles after her, realizing just how difficult it is to get used to wearing these. He can't believe that women manage to do this all the time—that they're raised doing this. It's awful and it hurts, but he's desperate to impress her and, honestly, he _does_ feel pretty.

Regina's bedroom is just down the hall. She has him wait at the door while she walks in and fetches a small purse. "This has everything that we need." She explains. "Now follow me. We're going to the staircase."

They go down the hall and pause at the top of the stairs.

"Bend over the banister. Don't take off your new shoes."

Doing as he's told, he leans forward and grips the banister with his hand, letting the forearm of his other arm rest against the banister so that his forehead can comfortably press against it as he bends over.

"Good boy." She squeezes his ass and he whimpers. "I think that it's about time these came off." Humming quietly, she pulls his panties down until they're below his ass, the fabric stretched between his thighs.

There's a damp patch in the front from his cock, and her face lights up when she sees it.

"Such a naughty boy! Your panties are always so wet." She scolds, and he moans. He hears her unzip the purse, and there's a wet sound that follows as she wets her fingers with the bottle of lube that it must have contained.

"This might be a little cold." She warns, rubbing slick fingers against his hole. He cries out and pushes back. It's one of the first times he's been touched there, like this, and he _loves_ it. The liquid heats up quickly enough, and when she finally pushes in a finger he shudders

It feels like his whole body is throbbing with arousal, and it only gets worse when she adds another digit. It's a new feeling, being stretched like this, but he likes it even if it does hurt a little. The pain increases as she starts moving her fingers, working him open.

He's openly panting as she starts openly fucking him with her fingers, sweat beading along his forehead as he stares down at the first floor from the bannister. He thinks about what would happen if someone walked into the house right now, what they would see, and there's actually a sob in his throat because he really, really needs to come.

Her other hand is planted between his shoulder blades, keeping him down.

Regina curls her wicked, wicked fingers and rubs against his prostate, and he cries openly, a few tears running down his face.

"What's the matter, dear? Do you want to come?"

"Yes!" He says immediately. "Yes. Yes, _please_, Your Majesty. Please let me come."

"Do you think I should? Have you been a good boy?"

"Y-yes. I've been a good boy. I'll be good, I'll be so good for you, I promise." The words tumble from his mouth. He's not sure what he's even saying anymore.

"Do you promise? Do you promise to be a good little slut for your queen? To behave? To obey me?"

He nods, and sobs.

"Tell me."

"I-I will. I am. I'm your slut, Your Majesty." He whimpers. "I promise to be good. I _promise_."

"That's right." She reaches up under his bra and rubs a finger against one of his pert, pink nipples. "You're here to serve me. Never forget that."

Her hand moves down his trembling body until she reaches his arousal, giving it a few quick jerks before finally rolling off the cock ring. The effect is almost immediate. His vision clouds over, white hot pleasure taking him over as he comes in short spasms, trembling and shaking and crying through the one of the most satisfying orgasms he's ever had.

As he comes back to his senses, Regina, her fingers gone, grips his hair and pulls down until he's on his knees.

"Just look at the mess that you've made." She whispers, and he realizes that he's come onto the banister. "Clean it up. Be a good boy, just like you promised."

Lips parting, he gives the shining wood a long lick, tasting himself as he cleans the evidence of his arousal off of the banister. As he continues, Regina trails a hand slowly down to his backside, rubbing against his hole.

He whimpers against the wood, sensitive but still enjoying the attention.

"How tired are you?" She asks.

"I'm okay." He says honestly, resting his forehead against the clean, shining wood. It's true. He's pleasantly sated and a little drowsy after his orgasm, but he'd spent the morning lazing around on the couch and doesn't think he could fall asleep again. Being denied an orgasm was the hard part, now he just feels _great_.

"That's good to hear. I was hoping that we wouldn't be finished. I have good news for you. The shoes aren't the only present I have for you."

"Really?" He asks, curious. That's when he feels something decidedly not made of flesh pushing against his hole.

"I bought you the most _beautiful_ set. Very expensive." She whispers into his ear, her breath hot, and he realizes what she's pressing against him. It was something that they'd gone over briefly when talking about limits. She'd pulled up a picture of a set of anal plugs, asking him things like his favorite color and whether or not he'd prefer glass or silicone. "I thought that we could start today, so that you'll be ready for my cock as soon as possible."

He shivers, and thinks that if he hadn't come only a few minutes ago, he'd be hard again. Yesterday after lunch she'd asked, bluntly and professionally, if he'd like to see her cock. He hadn't quite understood, but had enthusiastically agreed.

She'd presented him with a practical-looking harness and a red, reasonably and realistically sized, dildo that fit into the front of it. Now, he thinks about that red cock all the fucking time. Especially now.

"If you want it, ask for it." Regina whispers, rubbing the plug against his sore hole.

"I want it." He moans, gripping the banister. He's kneeling with his legs partially spread, the panties stretched as far as they can go as he pushes his ass back towards her. "Please, Your Majesty."

He feels her pour a little more lube onto him, and in the next few moments she eases in the plug. It's about the size of two of her fingers at the base, and the head of it only hits his prostate if he squeezes and shifts the right way. That's what he's doing now, moving around and trying to get used to it.

"Do you like it?"

As she pulls him to his feet (the heels are still on) he nods and smiles, the feeling new but not at all unwelcome.

"Good. Are you going to get hard again?"

"I think so, Your Majesty." He admits. Right now he's still relaxed and over-sensitive, but this is the first time he's been allowed to come in days, and just being near Regina is enough to turn him on.

"Good." She moves to pulls his panties back up, to cover his cock and the plug, and then frowns. "Oh, dear."

"What?" He asks, looking down and realizing that the fabric has been stretched beyond repair. Any hints of arousal are gone. It feels like he's been doused in freezing water. He's ruined the panties, one of the gifts she's given him. He feels awful.

"I'm sorry." He says immediately, eyes wide as he looks to her for a response.

"You'll have to be punished. Come with me."

The walk to her office is slow, especially considering that his underwear won't stay up, which makes his movements awkward. Once they arrive, she points to her desk.

"While I work, you will stand and think about what you've done."

"That's…that's it?" He asks, a little confused. Honestly, he'd been hoping that she would spank him, even though he was still bruised from earlier in the week.

"Yes." Regina slides in behind her desk, opening a manila folder and picking up a pen. "Stand still, and stay quiet. You may breathe and blink, but other than that, do not move. Thirty minutes."

At first he's too confused to really think about it. Then, as time goes by, he gets bored and his back starts to hurt from balancing in the high heels. At one point he moves forward slightly to lean against the desk, but the look that Regina gives him is fit to kill.

He's not sure how much time as passed, but his legs are shaking slightly (not from anxiety, but from the strain of staying in one position for so long) and most of his joints are in some amount of discomfort, if not pain.

All that he wants to do is collapse and sprawl out and stretch, but he can't, because that's not what would make Regina happy. Just as the strain is really getting to him, Regina pauses and looks at her submissive.

"Time's up."

Relief floods through him and he immediately cracks his neck and sinks down so that he's sitting on the carpet next to Regina's desk, looking up at her with reverence. Regina was a genius.

He's acutely aware of the plug still in his ass, and it's not enough to get him hard, but it's enough to make him think about what it would feel like to have a cock there instead.

"Your Majesty?"

"Yes, Killian?" Regina asks, and his name on her lips is as sweet as honey to his ears.

"Today, I…was I good?" He asks, a little uncertain. After all, what had happened earlier was a reward, and he'd ended up doing something wrong and getting punished.

"Yes, dear." She holds out her hand and almost immediately he's kneeling next to her hair, his forehead against her thigh and her fingers in his hair. Being at Regina's feet is quickly becoming his favorite place in the world. "You did very well. I'm proud of you. If you wish, you may stay here with me until I am finished working. After that, we'll have dinner."

So he stays.


End file.
